


Why You Don't Pick Up Hitchhikers

by CaitCoffin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Folklore, Original Story - Freeform, School Assignment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:56:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitCoffin/pseuds/CaitCoffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A school project I did where I had to write a folktale or urban legend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why You Don't Pick Up Hitchhikers

**Author's Note:**

> This is bad. I wrote this in like an hour and pulled it out of my ass.

        In today’s society it is known that picking up hitchhikers is a danger. But how did this common knowledge come about?  Well, let me tell you the story of why you shouldn’t pick up hitchhikers.

            It was a dark and moonless night in the hills of Utah. The only light came from the headlights of the 1959 Edsel Corsair. Great Balls Of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis was playing on the staticy radio. The man behind the wheel was named Thomas Shea. He had newly turned 18. The new car had been a gift from his grandfather.

            A heavy fog had rolled in. This made it nearly impossible for Thomas to see he didn’t see the sign as he turned onto a stretch of road. Route 666. He had heard stories about this highway. If only he realized this was the road he was on. He began to hear dogs barking in the distance. However, he thought nothing of it.

            About ten minutes had passed when he saw a young woman, about the age of 17 or 18 maybe 19 at the most, standing along the side of the road. When she saw Thomas she flagged him down. He pulled the car over and rolled down the window,

            “Hey you need a ride?” He asked.

            “Oh yes please!” The woman cried.

            She climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. Thomas started to drive away.

            “I’m Mindy…” She said quietly

            “Tom.” He said with a glance over to her.

            Thomas couldn’t see her very well in the dark. He figured he better keep his eyes on the road. He turned his gaze back to the dark highway in front of him. A large black dog stood in the middle of the path, it looked at him with unnatural glowing yellow eyes. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop so he swerved. However, the car collided with a large tree. He looked to see if Mindy was ok.  She was gone.

            “Mindy?” Tom called.

            “Over here Tom.” Her voice came from the other side of him.

            Tom looked over just in time to have a knife ripped across his throat. The interior of the car was now splattered with his fresh blood. The dogs were closer now. They were at the car. They were on top of roof. At the door. On the hood. The last thing Tom felt were the hellhounds ripping his flesh off his bones.

Mindy wasn’t who Tom thought. She wasn’t human. She was a demon.  And he had walked right into her trap.

And that my dear children is why you do not pick up hitchhikers.


End file.
